showed any signs of returning to consciousness. In the meantime those around the man made him as comfortable as circumstances permitted.
At last he opened his eyes and sat up.
"Where—what's the matter?" he asked, in a cold, disagreeable voice.
"You were struck down on the road," answered Leander. "Don't you remember?"
"I—yes, I remember being hit from over the shoulder. Who did it?"
"A native—we caught sight of him running away," put in old Jacob. "I don't believe you are seriously hurt, though."
"I don't know." Joseph Farvel gave a deep groan. "What beastly luck I'm having, to be sure! Did the native rob me?"
"You'll have to find that out for yourself," answered Leander. "We don't know what is in your pockets."
With some difficulty Joseph Farvel went through first one pocket and then another, and then he gave another groan.
"My purse is gone—and it contained over eight pounds!"
"You certainly had hard luck," was old Jacob's comment. "Where are you bound?"
"To the next village. I was—ah—roaming about these mountains, but I'm rather sick of it."
